Speed That Kills
by Dragonfly-Moonlight
Summary: Also a Speed Racer crossover. Tragedy strikes just as the Autobots are getting ready to head back to Oregon


Chromia looked at the old house one final time. They had only stayed in it for two Earth weeks but it already contained many fond memories. She smiled as she thought of one memory in particular.

"I thought you didn't care for being human," a voice murmured in her ear. A strong set of arms wrapped around her slender waist as a kiss landed on her neck.

"I don't, Ironhide," she shot back. "I'll be very glad to get back to Autobot headquarters and to get back to normal."

Ironhide chuckled softly at that as he held her. For a while, they just stood there and looked at the house. Finally, another voice interrupted their thoughts but it wasn't who they were expecting.

"Leaving so soon? I was hoping you'd stay on for a while longer. Give Channel Six a little more variety. Vernon can be quite boring some times."

They looked to see a figure walking towards them. He was clad in a trench coat and an old fedora that covered his reptilian features. Chromia smiled to herself, knowing who it was.

"I only signed on for one story, Raphael," she explained. "My obligation is filled. I'm ready to head back to Oregon."

"Oregon? I hear it's really nice out there," Raphael commented. "Maybe we can get out there to visit sometime."

"Maybe," Ironhide answered. "It'll depend on a few things."

"Like what?"

"Like if we find you first."

Raphael regarded them for a moment then chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess it would. I should get back to the Lair and let you two be on your way," he grinned.

"Take care of yourself, Raphael."

"You, too."

With that, the Turtle turned around and disappeared around the corner. Ironhide and Chromia climbed into Tracks.

"Prime says there's been a delay at the airport," the blue Autobot informed them. As soon as they were in and seatbelted, he'd taken off. Now they moving along in traffic. "Everyone is stuck at the airport with all of the equipment."

"For how long?" Chromia inquired.

"A few hours, at least. He said something about some race car drivers holding things up."

"Lovely," she groaned. "A few more hours like this."

Ironhide snorted then laughed at her complaint.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You," he replied.

"Me!"

"Yes, you. You're acting like a few more hours like this will kill you or something. It isn't like we have to wait at the airport. . ."

Chromia, at first, didn't catch what it was that Ironhide was implying. She was about ready to light into him when she caught herself. Did he just say what she thought he just said?

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "That we not go to the airport just yet?"

"Yep."

"You knew about the delay, didn't you?"

"Well, no," Ironhide confessed. "I had asked Prime and Elita if you and I could catch a later flight. That way . . ."

"We can spend some time together without so many prying eyes and optics?" Chromia finished. Ironhide nodded. "What about Tracks?"

"My lips are sealed."

Chromia hesitated. She really didn't want to be human a moment longer than was necessary but she did want to spend some time alone with Ironhide. Maybe Tracks can drive us to a secluded location, she thought, remembering a rainy night a few nights ago.

"All right," Chromia smiled. "Let's go." Ironhide grinned back as Tracks made a turn to leave the city. Little did they know they weren't the only couple with the same thing on their mind.

888888888

"Trixie, slow down! You're fifteen miles above the speed limit!" Speed exclaimed. He and his girlfriend, Trixie, were on their way to the beach as a means of a victory celebration. The day before he had entered the Great New York Grand Prix and had won. Now he just wanted to spend some time with Trixie and just relax.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Speed," Trixie blushed. "I tend to forget how easy it is to get carried away by the Mach 5!" She took her foot off of the accelerator slightly and they began to slow down some. Speed just shook his head.

"Just get us to the beach safely, okay?" he grinned.

Trixie caught his grin and returned it.

"Okay."

They drove on for a while longer until they reached the beach. Speed was shocked to see only one other car, a 1982 Corvette Stingray, there.

That's odd, he thought as he and Trixie climbed out of the Mach 5. The beach is almost always packed on a hot day like today.

"Look, Speed," Trixie exclaimed rather happily. "We're the only other ones here! There'll be no one to disturb us!"

"Good," he breathed. "It's about time."

Speed loved racing and loved winning. It was in his blood. He was a Racer, after all, but he didn't like being hounded constantly by the press or be mobbed by adoring fans. Sure, most of his fans were pretty girls, but there were times when enough was enough. Plus, he didn't like putting up with Trixie's jealous bone.

"Shall I pull out our picnic?" Trixie asked cheerfully. "It's going to be so groovy having the beach to ourselves!"

"Sure," Speed answered absently. His eyes had landed on the Corvette. "I'll be right there."

As Trixie got their picnic out of the trunk of the Mach 5, Speed circled the other car.

_Wow! An old Corvette Stingray! And in such excellent condition! Pops and Sparky would love tos ee this! It just glistens in the sun! I'd sure like to own this car! _

"Like what you're seeing?" a woman's voice asked. Slightly embarrassed by the hint of amusement in her voice, Speed looked up then felt his jaw dropping.

The woman in front of him just happened to be beautiful, especially in just a white tank top and cut-off denim shorts. That wasn't what had caught his attention. He had seen her before but he couldn't place where.

"It's just a car," Trixie sniffed, interrupting his thoughts. He caught the shades of jealousy underneath. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled in an amused way as she said, "Christine Silver."

"Christine Silver?" Speed echoed. "The reporter?" She nodded. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at a news station or something?" he asked somewhat haughtily.

"No," she replied, giving them both a funny look. "I'm just hanging out for a while with my boyfriend before we leave. Now if you'll both excuse me . . ."

She got into the car and Speed thought she was going to leave. In fact, he hoped that she would leave. Instead, there was a click as the trunk unlatched and Christine pulled out some blankets and a rather small picnic basket. She walked back to the beach where a red-haired man waited for her and they were gone.

"So much for that hope," he muttered.

"What?" Trixie looked at him.

"Nothing," he answered quickly. He walked over to her to help her with their picnic supplies, all the while keeping a sharp out for Christine.

888888888

Ironhide watched as Chromia talked to the two young adults that had arrived at the beach. He, of course, recognized them right off the bat but he wasn't one to rushing up to someone and saying, "I'm a big fan! Can I have your autograph?" Though he had watched the race yesterday, Ironhide had not been impressed with any of the drivers, being more of a NASCAR fan than Formula-1. He just hoped that the two would not want to join them. This was his day to be with Chromia, the last one where they could be alone and not be disturbed by teammates. He wanted to enjoy it.

"That was interesting," Chromia commented as she walked to him. Immediately, he took the blankets and picnic basket from her. It wasn't because he thought she couldn't handle it. He just liked being a gentleman where the ladies were concerned.

"How's that?" he asked as they walked out of sight of the other couple.

"The girlfriend was jealous then he became suspicious after I told them my human name," she said. "I hope they don't start hounding us."

"Same here," he agreed. "Maybe we can just pretend that we're the only ones here."

Chromia laughed at that and he grinned. He knew just how to make her day.

They found a quiet little spot in a rock alcove and spread one of the blankets out. For the next several hours there they stayed, talking quietly and watching the waves as they lazily came to shore and fell back. Occasionally Ironhide stole a kiss or she would but that was as far as things went. With two teenagers around somewhere, they didn't want to take any chances but they left that unspoken. They both remembered the times when their creations had caught them sharing some rather tender moments and it had been somewhat embarrassing. Finally, Ironhide looked at his watch and sighed.

"We better get going. Our flight will be leaving in the next hour or so."

"Mmm," Chromia nodded. Ironhide smiled. She was falling asleep.

"Did someone call for valet service?"

"Tracks?"

Ironhide looked to see the blue Autobot standing outside the alcove. He was smiling.

"Don't worry, Ironhide. Those kids left shortly after they had arrived," Tracks explained as he transformed. "Very shortly. I think they were here for a grand total of forty-five minutes."

"That's odd," he frowned as he lifted Chromia up.

"You're telling me! They were arguing up a storm as they left. I thought you two were bad!"

"Har har," Ironhide replied sourly as he set Chromia in the passenger seat. He then retrieved the rest of their supplies and they were gone.

"I could have walked," Chromia murmured, her crystal blue eyes only opened part way. She smiled at him.

"I know."

"But you still wouldn't want to wake me, right?" Her smile got a little wider.

"Something like that."

"You're such a sentimentalist," she sighed, causing Ironhide to laugh.

"So?" he shot back. "I've never heard you complain about it before!"

"Whoever said I was complaining?"

Ironhide wisely said nothing to that. Instead, he just smiled and took her hand in his. It was a day that neither of them would ever forget.

888888888

Gun shots filled the air and planes flew towards certain death. It was, without a doubt, Michelangelo's favourite part of Independence Day: the humans' last stand.

"Zap those aliens!" he cheered. "Don't let them get away with what they did to New York!"

"I'm glad Channel Six is showing this movie tonight," April commented. "At least someone is having fun."

"Awww, cheer up, April," Michelangelo said, hugging her a little. He hated seeing her pine over a jerk like Ian Harris. At least he, Leonardo, and Donatello thought Ian was a jerk since he seemed to prefer a bitch like Christine over someone caring like April. Raphael and Master Splinter had been inclined to disagree but that wasn't enough to change his mind. Ian really had hurt April by rejecting her. "You're too good for the dude!"

"Thanks, Michelangelo," she smiled.

"Pizza's here!" Donatello announced. He, Leonardo, and Raphael walked in just as a news bulletin interrupted the movie. Master Splinter stepped into the living room as well, curious.

_"We interrupt this movie to bring you an important news bulletin . . ."_

"Always at the best parts, too," Michelangelo lamented.

"Hush, Michelangelo," Splinter admonished.

_"Highway 23 heading into New York is closed due to a two vehicle collision a few moments ago. Channel Six's own Jackie Smith is at the scene now. Jackie?"_

The picture on the screen changed from Vernon Fenwick to Jackie Smith, a dumpy looking brunette with a nasally voice.

_"Thank you, Vernon. As you can see, it's very chaotic here as rescue crews try to make sense as to how this happened,"_ she said. Behind her, the police and emergency crews scrambled about. One person lay on the ground and it looked like the EMTs were trying to revive him. _"We must warn our viewers that some of the scenes we're about to show are very graphic and that their discretion is advised."_

As Jackie walked over to the police, the camera passed over the two cars. One they instantly recognised as the Mach 5, the winner of yesterday's race. It looked like it had seen better days. The other car resembled an old Corvette Stingray. A dark blue Corvette Stingray.

"That looks like Ian's car," Michelangelo commented.

"Can't be," April shook her head. "That car is an Autobot. They would have avoided it."

"I'm surprised that Racer didn't avoid it," Leonardo said as the Channel Six crew walked by him and a young brunette. They each had a black eye, some scratches on their faces, and her arm was being wrapped in some bandages. Duly, Jackie walked by them but the Turtles knew it was only a temporary measure.

_"Oh my gosh . . . Christine?"_

All conversation in the room stopped as the camera landed on the bruised and battered Christine. Paramedics were either holding an oxygen mask or trying to bandage her injuries, and she looked extremely dazed. For a moment, no one said a word, and all was still on the TV. Finally, April broke the silence.

"It can't be them," she whispered. "They were leaving New York this afternoon. It can't be."

_"Excuse me, miss, but we have to get her and the rest of them to the hospital . . ."_

Jackie and her crew stepped out of the way of some paramedics as they carried a gurney to one of the ambulances. On the gurney was, in fact, Ian Harris, and Michelangelo felt himself becoming ill.

Ian wore an oxygen mask and his left eye had swollen shut. The white gauze and bandages around his head were becoming bright scarlet with blood. In sickening slow motion, Ian was loaded into the ambulance then he was gone. Jackie regained some semblance of composure and quickly ended her report. The announcer came back on to repeat what he initially said the first time and who had been involved. They, however, no longer paid any attention to the TV. Splinter and the Turtles had their attention on April.

"It's Christine's fault," she murmured after a few moments. "Has to be. They must have gotten into an argument and it caused a distraction for both Ian and the Autobot. Damn her!" "Hold on, April," Raphael interjected. "We don't know what happened. For all we know, that Racer kid could have fallen asleep behind the wheel and smashed into them. The Mach 5 looked like it had broadsided Ian's car."

"You've never heard them argue," she snapped.

"Actually, my child, they have," Splinter said. "Raphael's right. We do not know what happened. Only they know."

"I'm going to the hospital," she said, as if not hearing them. "He needs to know that I'm here for them."

Michelangelo watched her leave, a sadness filling her heart. He knew that, if Ian survived, April would be heartbroken once more. Ian would still choose Christine over her. He feared that April might do something she'd later regret.

888888888

Speed stared at the wall of the emergency room, not really seeing it and not even paying any attention as the staff bandaged him up. His mind refused to accept the fact that he had been in a car accident . . . and that he had been the cause of it.

He'd been arguing with Trixie. His eyes and his mind had not been on the road when the Mach 5 came to a very sudden stop and the sound of metal hitting metal and glass breaking greeted his ears. They had been thrown forward and Speed recalled nothing more until the paramedics and the EMTs were lifting him out of his car.

Immediately, he had looked for Trixie. Speed knew he'd never be able to live with himself if anything had happened to her. Instead, he saw the couple from the beach and, with a nauseating realization, he knew he had collided with them. He closed his eyes to block out the image of the paramedics trying to resuscitate the man.

"Speed?"

He opened his eyes and saw he was still in the emergency room, Racer X standing in front of him. Tears began to fill his eyes.

"Racer X . . ."

"It's going to be all right, Speed. You're going to be okay," the other man soothed. Speed laughed bitterly at that.

"Is it?" he asked. "A man died in a car accident tonight because of me and everything is going to be okay? I hardly think so, Racer X."

"Speed," he sighed. "No one died tonight. They were able to revive him at the scene and he's now in emergency surgery."

"That doesn't change anything," Speed said quietly. "He stopped breathing and his life is hanging in the balance. Because of me. You expect me to be okay with that?"

"No," came the reply. "I expect you to live with but also accept what happened and come to terms with it. No one is perfect, Speed. How can we learn from our mistakes if we refuse to accept the fact that we made them to begin with?"

He has a point, Speed told himself. But why should my mistake cost someone else his life? If anyone should be in that operating room, it should be me! The accident was my fault and my fault alone.

Speed closed his eyes and leaned back, hoping that Christine and her boyfriend would be all right and that they would be able to forgive him someday just as he hoped to forgive himself.

888888888

Perceptor sighed quietly to himself and adjusted his position for the twenty-fourth time. He was sitting in a room with Chromia and bored out of his mind.

_Why did this have to happen?_ he wondered as he looked at the sleeping woman.

She had an oxygen mask on and a splint on her right arm. They had given her a mild sedative to calm her down so they could take the X-rays. That was when they discovered that three of her ribs had been cracked and her wrist sprained but she hadn't been concerned about herself. She'd been concerned about Ironhide and had been ready to storm into the operating room to find out his condition.

Perceptor sighed again as he thought about Ironhide. Ratchet was in the operating room with him, working with several others to get the older Mech stabilized. He still hadn't heard about his friend's injuries, only that he had not been breathing when the paramedics had arrived. The thought of Ironhide dying scared Perceptor to no end, especially when he thought about the frailty of the human body.

"Troy? What are you doing here?"

Surprised at hearing another woman's voice, Perceptor turned his head and saw April O'Neil standing there. She looked as if she'd been crying yet she had a cold expression on her face whenever she glanced at Chromia.

"April . . ."

"I came as soon as I could but they wouldn't let me see Ian and they're not telling me anything. What happened?"

"No one is quite sure," he began. Something about April's behaviour unsettled him. "Ian's pretty much comatose and Christine had to be sedated so they could take some X-rays of her but from what I've heard, the Racer kid smashed into them."

"They didn't smash into him?"

"No," Perceptor shook his head. "They didn't smash into the Racer kid. They probably didn't even know what hit them until aferwards."

"Where is Ian?" April inquired. "I'd like to see him."

"You can't," he stated quietly. "He's in surgery and after he's out, Christine will be the first to see him. Chet already promised her that."

"Why should she get to see him first?" April scowled. "She doesn't love him! She doesn't even care about him! She's up here, sleeping!"

Normally, Perceptor did not lose his temper. It took a lot to anger him and it usually came in the form of someone interrupting him during his experiments. Today, however, was different. Today, three of his own had been seriously injured in a car accident that should have never taken place. One could possibly die in a frail human body and that thought alone scared him. He jumped to his feet.

"Ms O'Neil, I will NOT tolerate that kind of talk about Christine," he growled angrily. "I already told you that Christine had been sedated and that is why she sleeps. And, for your information, Christine does, in fact, love and care about Ian. She always has and always will."

"Troy," she sighed exasperatedly, as if he knew nothing about the nature of Ironhide and Chromia's relationship.

"Do not patronize me, Ms O'Neil. You were not here when Christine tried storming into the operating room. You were not here to see her face when she arrived and had been told she could not see the one man she cares most about. You weren't the one to hear her asking for the truth, that there was no way Ian had to be revived at the scene. You weren't there."

April just looked at him in surprise, like she hadn't expected such a tirade from him, but Perceptor didn't care. As far as he was concerned, she had gone too far in her accusations.

"Are we interrupting something?" a voice asked. Four figures stood in the doorway, each wearing a trench coat and fedora hats. "Not at all," he responded coldly. "Ms O'Neil was just leaving."

With tears in her eyes, April fled the room and three of them followed.

888888888

Ratchet looked at the battered and bruised face of his friend and half- brother, Ironhide. The older Autobot had taken a severe beating in the car accident. He had a huge and bloody gash across his forehead, a black eye, a broken nose and arm, and nearly had his knees crushed. That hadn't been the scary part, though. The scary part had been the internal bleeding and a collapsed lung. Ironhide would be in traction for the next several weeks, at least. So long as he was in the hospital.

"Dr. Torch?"

Ratchet tore his gaze away from Ironhide to the nurse standing next to him.

"Yes?"

"We have everything," she smiled tiredly. "The internal bleeding has stopped and his breathing is starting to normalize itself out. He's a strong fighter."

_If you only knew . . ._

"Thank you. When Christine Silver wakes up, take her to him immediately. Don't let anyone else see him until she has," he ordered. "I don't want to see a nuclear holocaust take place."

"Yes, doctor . . ."

"Not even me?" a voice said.

"A promise is a promise, Tim," Ratchet said, turning to face his leader. "Christine wouldn't calm down and wouldn't leave until I did. You know how those two can be when it comes to each other."

Optimus nodded.

"How are they doing?"

"Okay, under the circumstances," he murmured so only Prime could hear. "He'll be in ICU for a few days but I hope to get him transferred to Portland so we can get him back to base. That way he can recover in more familiar surroundings until he can change back."

"Dr. Torch?" Both men glanced over to see April O'Neil and three of the Turtles standing there.

"Yes, Ms O'Neil?"

"May I please see Ian?" she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please?"

"Ms O'Neil," he began. "I already promised Christine that she would be the first one to see him. I can't even let Tim into see him and they're best friends. I'm not going back on my word to her."

"Why does she get to see him first?" she fumed, tears still flowing down her cheeks. "Why can't I see him? She wouldn't have to know."

"Because they're married," Ratchet replied irritably. "That's why."

"They're . . . what?"

"They're married," he said. "With four children."

"We never saw any rings . . ."

"Nor any pictures . . ."

"And we never saw any signs of any kids living there."

"They don't wear their rings all the time," Prime stated. "And their children are off at boarding school. Their marriage isn't something they want to be common knowledge. As for the pictures of the kids . . . they're all in Portland."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, Mr. Primrose and I have some business to take care of."

Ratchet turned and walked into the closest conference room. As soon as Prime closed the door behind them, Ratchet let out a long and tired sigh, collapsing into a chair.

"Ratchet?"

"I'm fine . . . You should know by now that saving Ironhide's life is nothing new for me."

"But this time?"

Ratchet hesitated then rubbed his eyes.

"I'd forgotten just how frail human bodies could be, Optimus," he said quietly. "I never really realised just how vulnerable we could be in these forms until tonight."

"You mean Ironhide's injuries?"

Ratchet nodded.

"His and Chromia's, Prime. Until we can get them back to one of our bases so they can change back, Chromia is going to be extremely sore and Ironhide will have a hard time just breathing," he exclaimed. "It scares me to think of how dangerously close we came to losing them tonight."

"How close, Ratchet?"

Ratchet looked at his leader before replying, "Chromia's ribs were cracked, nearly puncturing one of her lungs. One of Ironhide's did collapse and, from what one of the paramedics told me, he stopped breathing. They had to revive him at the scene."

"Primus . . ."

"That's what I said. And Chromia watched them as they worked, not even knowing what it was that they were doing. I tell you, I don't know how humans do it."

"I know."

They fell silent, each losing himself to his own thoughts. What Prime was thinking, Ratchet didn't know. He just was concerned with getting Ironhide back to base as quickly as possible and hoping he survived.

888888888

Something sat on his chest. He knew it and he wanted to push whatever it was off of him so he could breathe. Yet, he couldn't muster the strength.

_So tired . . . Why am I so tired? I shouldn't be this tired. Why do I ache so? Primus, please let this be just a dream . . ._

Ironhide wanted to open his eyes but he wanted to rest more than anything else. Something, however, prevented him from doing so. Images, faces he couldn't place.

_Please just let me rest. That's all I want . . . please just let me rest. Let me rest . . ._

The desire to rest overtook him and Ironhide remembered no more . . .

Finis


End file.
